are well befogged, and his pretty darters perhaps in a
deep sleep, and Hurry Harry, the Great Pine as you Indians tarm him, is
dreaming of any thing but mischief, and all suppose Hawkeye is acting as
a faithful sentinel, all I have to do is set a torch somewhere in sight
for a signal, open the door, and let in the Hurons, to knock 'em all on
the head."

"Surely my brother is mistaken. He cannot be white! He is worthy to be a
great chief among the Hurons!"

"That is true enough, I dares to say, if he could do all this. Now,
harkee, Huron, and for once hear a few honest words from the mouth of a
plain man. I am Christian born, and them that come of such a stock, and
that listen to the words that were spoken to their fathers and will be
spoken to their children, until 'arth and all it holds perishes, can
never lend themselves to such wickedness. Sarcumventions in war, may
be, and are, lawful; but sarcumventions, and deceit, and treachery among
fri'inds are fit only for the pale-face devils. I know that there are
white men enough to give you this wrong idee of our natur', but such
be ontrue to their blood and gifts, and ought to be, if they are not,
outcasts and vagabonds. No upright pale-face could do what you wish,
and to be as plain with you as I wish to be, in my judgment no upright
Delaware either. With a Mingo it may be different."

The Huron listened to this rebuke with obvious disgust, but he had his
ends in view, and was too wily to lose all chance of effecting them by
a precipitate avowal of resentment. Affecting to smile, he seemed to
listen eagerly, and he then pondered on what he had heard.

"Does Hawkeye love the Muskrat?" he abruptly demanded; "Or does he love
his daughters?"

"Neither, Mingo. Old Tom is not a man to gain my love, and, as for the
darters, they are comely enough to gain the liking of any young man,
but there's reason ag'in any very great love for either. Hetty is a good
soul, but natur' has laid a heavy hand on her mind, poor thing."

"And the Wild Rose!" exclaimed the Huron--for the fame of Judith's
beauty had spread among those who could travel the wilderness, as well
as the highway by means of old eagles' nests, rocks, and riven trees
known to them by report and tradition, as well as among the white
borderers, "And the Wild Rose; is she not sweet enough to be put in the
bosom of my brother?"

Deerslayer had far too much of the innate gentleman to insinuate
aught against the fair fa